On the Other Side of the Ice
by Zil
Summary: Definition of Iceman: One who deals in ice. A collection of What-If origin tales for Bobby Drake.
1. Marvel Girl

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money from this work of fiction. I do, however, appreciate comments and feedback. Thanks for reading!

Bobby woke up with snow sticking to his hair, his dad's voice hoarse from calling him. He blinked at his parents standing in the doorway, squinting as the light snapped on.

"Not again." His mother moaned slightly, turning away from the scene. His dad looked sad and scared. It made Bobby's stomach flip to see that expression on his father.

"Well, we'd better get this cleaned up." He touched his wife's shoulder. "Make us some cocoa Maddie?" She nodded and headed for the stairs, giving her son a brief smile meant to reassure him, but in it was the same fear he saw in his father's eyes. The ice in his stomach was as real as the ice in the room. "I'll go get the shovels, son. See if you can get the window opened?"

Bobby swallowed hard. "Sure dad." He pushed the covers back and swung his legs out of bed and into a snowdrift. The window was iced shut; he had to go get his mother's hairdryer.

Together, clad in pajamas and robes, they shoveled the snow that blanketed Bobby's room over to the window and scooped it down to the lawn. Previously they'd dumped the snow in the bath down the hall, but that was heavy work and his father had a bad back. Bobby's window faced east and the days were still warm even though summer was waning, so if they spread the slush out it would be melted before the neighbours got up. They worked silently, William Drake shivered, his jaw clenched tight to stop his teeth from knocking together. He kicked the loose powder off his slippers every few steps but they were soaked anyway. He could deal with that. What bothered him was the way his young son worked beside him, unnoticing of the freezing cold.

"The same dream?" his mother asked, as the three of them sat around the table.

Bobby hesitated, and nodded, looking down into his hot chocolate.

William and Maddie exchanged a look. "I've got the couch made up for you sweetheart. You should try and get some more sleep."

Bobby nodded again, and went to the living room. His drained his mug and placed it gently on the end table before settling under the blankets on the sofa. The dream. The reality. It had been almost three months ago, but every time he woke up to the crackle of ice it seemed like it was only seconds ago that he'd been waving goodbye to his best friend. Watching her wave back, step into the street, the squeal of brakes the flash of green as the car hit her, the flash of red as she hit the ground. Him running, leaping, almost sliding over the fence, feeling so cold. Pulling her into his arms, feeling her going limp, watching the light go out of her eyes, feeling, although the logical part of his mind said it was too soon, her body growing cold. Then going numb himself, until he felt made of ice.

He could hear his parents still sitting in the kitchen, the concern in their hushed voices reaching him where actual words were indistinct. He turned over and tried to sleep. And not to dream.


	2. Angel

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money from this work of fiction. I do, however, appreciate comments and feedback. Thanks for reading!

"No!"

Bobby paused on the ledge of the open window. He teetered forward a second, hand poised out into thin air as if to catch himself. He let out an exasperated breath before turning to look at the owner of the voice.

William Drake's presence in the doorway of his son's room was as commanding as his tone.

'Why do you care?' Bobby thought bitterly.

"Do you have any idea what would happen if someone saw you? If it was leaked that Robert Drake, heir to the Drake fortune, was seen out riding on a piece of ice? What a field day the press would have!"

'Oh, right,' he replied silently to his own question, 'that's why.'

His father's expression softened. "Do you know what they'd do to you, son?"

Bobby took a step away from the window and forced himself to look up into the older man's eyes. "Sorry Pop."

His father stared back at him. "Just use your brain Bobby. Where were you going to go anyway?"

Bobby gestured at the TV on his dresser, the volume on low. "I saw on the news, some of the buildings down by the docks are falling down under the weight from that ice storm. I thought maybe I could go help-"

"Tonight's the opening of that new play. You were just going to take off and skip it?"

The two exchanged a puzzled look, neither understanding how the other could hold one event on par with the other. William gave an exasperated sigh of his own. "Look, if you want we can send a cheque to help repair the docks, but DrakeCorp needs some decent press right now and this opening is good exposure for you. Safe exposure, not like sliding down an ice ramp and getting caught by some nosy paparazzi." He pulled a cigar out of an inside pocket and handed Bobby the tie that had been flung on the bed.

Bobby stepped to the mirror and slipped the tie on. "Pop, sometimes it's just that…I feel like…I have to-" The young man in the expensive suit froze, literally.

"Don't!" His father's voice was sharp. "We're lucky son," his father cupped a hand around the cigar like he would light it. A nervous habit, one of his few weaknesses; Bobby's mother had strictly forbidden smoking in the house, except in the den. "Because you don't have to. Now you go out there and smile for the press and show that lucky young lady a good time."

"Yes Pop." Bobby turned back to the mirror, a flesh and blood billionaire's son, and straightened his tie.

His father nodded curtly, almost to himself. The cigar twitched as he walked away.

At the party Bobby laughed and smiled. He flirted with the cameras and his date. As they were ushered into the theatre he paused a moment, staring intently at the ice sculpture. The girl on his arm turned and caught a look of envy on his face. She tried to follow his gaze, see if there was a prettier girl, but whatever he'd seen, she couldn't find it. "Is everything alright Bobby?" She asked lightly.

"Yes." He smiled at her. "Yes, of course." Her walked her through the door. "I was just thinking how lucky I am."


	3. Cyclops

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and am making no money from this work of fiction I do, however, appreciate comments and feedback. Thanks for reading!

* * *

_The plane was on fire, the heat was more intense than anything Bobby had ever felt before. He could see his father in the cockpit wrestling with the controls, trying to get the plane to glide, trying to level off, anything. Even in the chaos William Drake wore his habitual expression of authority. His mother was in front of him, the scream of ripping metal covering her crying voice as she tucked the parachute straps over his shoulders and shoved his hysterical brother into his arms. He wished he could hear what she was saying. She looked at them with so much love; it was a look he would never forget. Ronny wailed and writhed in his arms. Bobby peered out the hatch past the buffeting winds at the austere Alaskan landscape that was their usual playground, where Bobby felt so safe and at peace. Maddie Drake's lip trembled as she smiled at her boys, an officer's wife to her core. Then she was gone. The ground rushed up as the flames chased them out of the sky. All Bobby could do was hold on to his little brother as the world went dark._

Bobby woke up shivering in his bed. It was spring in Nebraska, but the air still had teeth. He wished he could remember what he had dreamed about. He knew there was a woman and that she loved him, he guessed that was his mother. All he knew about her was that she was gone. Mr. Milbury, the orphanage's director, hadn't been able to help him remember any more details of his past then he'd awoken with five years ago after months in a coma, despite more and more frequent sessions of hypnotherapy. Only these haunting dreams that remained just out of his grasp upon waking.

And why was it so cold in here? Bobby noticed that his breath was fogging in the air, but his sleeping roommates' breath wasn't. He threw back the covers and stomped off to the shower room. Bobby felt his anger and fear slowly drain into exhaustion under the torrent of hot water as his shivering stopped. He was tired of being shuffled around the country, from foster parents to group homes, from doctors to psychiatrists, and not that Omaha was any great shakes, but he just starting to feel like he was gaining control of his life and these sudden cold snaps that kept happening to him weren't helping. People were starting to look at him like he was a freak.

He'd been strangely ashamed when he first felt it happening, secretly wondering if it wasn't just some lesser known side effect of puberty, and when he'd finally worked up the nerve to ask the doctor Mr. Milbury kept on staff about how he experienced sudden intense freezing chills the doctor had looked contemplatively at him and said it was probably a latent consequence of his earlier head trauma. That had shut Bobby up. He didn't talk to anyone about the fact that he had, as the people in the hospital so nicely put it, 'brain damage'.

Lately though, it wasn't just Bobby that was freezing. When he was studying books grew frosty in his hands, the girl he watched from across the room would begin to shiver; he couldn't deny it anymore, he was beginning to impact things around him and it terrified him. Maybe it was time to move on; to remove himself before well-meaning strangers did it for him. The orphanage was planning a trip to New York next month. He was sixteen now, he was smart, he knew he could take care of himself. Yeah, New York would be a good place to start. What's the worst thing that could happen?


End file.
